


ma chérie, un peu plus facile

by bangyababy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Community: dracotops_harry, Dirty Talk, Dom Draco Malfoy, Dom/sub, Former Auror Draco Malfoy, Getting Back Together, Harry acts like he doesn't want it but i promise he does, M/M, Negotiations, Past Relationship(s), Safe Sane and Consensual, Some Humor, Some praise, Sub Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:41:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23508565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bangyababy/pseuds/bangyababy
Summary: Harry has been struggling to catch a serial killer, and with pressure from the Ministry mounting and the public growing increasingly worried, there's only one person he knows can help.Too bad that person is disgruntled ex-Auror Draco Malfoy, and Malfoy never makes these things easy.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 34
Kudos: 545
Collections: Draco tops Harry 2020





	ma chérie, un peu plus facile

**Author's Note:**

> For prompt number 93 by bafflinghaze! Thanks so much to KIttyCargo for the beta and to the mods for working with me. I hope you enjoy! The title is google translated french for: darling, a little easier

Harry shifted from foot to foot as he waited to hear if he would be allowed entrance or not. He had to physically will himself not to pace, knowing that if he were caught in the act, it would further sour the mood of the man that was his final hope. 

He couldn’t help but curse what led him here today and found the root of the cause to be arrogance: the Ministry’s, his own, and of course that of the criminal he was pursuing. As he stewed over things he couldn’t change, the door opened and a “Come in,” he called out into the hallway. 

Harry took a deep breath and steeled himself for what was sure to be a difficult and frustrating conversation. 

When he entered the room, Draco Malfoy was waiting for him in a chair next to a fire, his legs crossed, fingers steepled. Sitting there in his white marble room he looked the picture of calm. He had the upper hand and he knew it. 

“Potter,” he greeted with more amiability than Harry thought Malfoy could possibly feel. “Won’t you sit?” Harry nodded, sat in the chair opposite from Malfoy. “You’re in your robes, so I assume this is an official call, and therefore alcohol is out of the question?” 

Harry tried not to scowl at the assumption. “It’s official, but I’m off the clock.” It was fine; Harry was due to go home after the visit anyway. 

Malfoy raised a brow. “Well, in that case, I have a lovely 97 Rothschild Bordeaux that I’ve been planning on opening.” 

“Malfoy,” Harry sighed. “You know I don’t know anything about wine.” 

“Indulge me, Potter,” Malfoy replied as he stood to pour the wine himself. Harry watched him move about the familiar space, noting the changes that had been made since his last visit. New paintings on either side of the mantle, the bar cart moved to the other side of the room, a new rug in front of the couch. Harry wondered what happened to the old rug. If he thought about it long enough he could still feel the fibers of it pressing into his bare back….

“Here you are,” Malfoy said, handing Harry his wine. “Don’t guzzle it all at once.” 

Harry did scowl at that and snatched the wine out of Malfoy’s hands. “I do know how to drink wine, Malfoy.” 

Malfoy grinned at him from his chair. “Yes, but you don’t know how to taste it, do you, sweetheart?” 

As condescending as the diminutive was, hearing it from Malfoy nudged something in Harry that he wasn’t ready to deal with. He pushed the feeling away and pressed on. “I think we both know why I’m here, Malfoy.” 

Some of the spark in Malfoy’s eyes dimmed. “I suppose we do.” He took a long drag of his wine and continued, “So, what’s the offer?” 

Harry sipped his wine, making sure Malfoy saw him _taste_ it before he spoke. “They’d like to bring you on to consult. 10,000 Galleons a week and a bonus of 10,000 if your findings lead to an arrest.” 

“What if my findings lead to an arrest that isn’t the main suspect?” 

“Are you saying you won’t be able to catch the main suspect?” Harry challenged. 

“No, I’m saying I’ll round up the whole lot,” Malfoy replied. Harry tried not to react to that information, but Malfoy had known him too long. “Oh, you didn’t know that, did you?” 

“I suspected,” Harry grumbled. “I couldn’t find any solid proof that it was a group of people.” 

“A network, actually,” Malfoy corrected. “But I suppose I’ll clue you all in later.” 

“So, you accept the terms of the deal?” 

“No,” Malfoy said simply. “I want 15,000 a week, and 10,000 for _each_ arrest.” 

“Malfoy, that’s—”

“And I want full credit for the arrests,” he continued on over Harry. “I want the front page of the _Prophet_ to read ‘Draco Malfoy Catches the Merlin Silencer _s_ ’ and I want the Minister to hold a press conference where he publicly thanks me.” 

Harry sank back into his chair, head in his hand, and moaned, “You don’t ask for much, do you?”

“Well, it’s not like the Ministry can’t afford it,” Malfoy replied. “And it’s not like they don’t already owe me more than that.”

There it was. 

“Malfoy, listen,” Harry began, but Malfoy cut him off before Harry could get any further. 

“No,” he said, and for the first time that night, Malfoy’s affable mask fell and his well warranted anger showed. “My dismissal, which is what it was, was Hippogriff shit, and we both know it. Or are you still pretending that I left on my own accord?” 

“I never thought that you weren’t justified in leaving.” 

“I didn’t leave! I was forced out, Potter!” Malfoy snapped. “The Ministry mishandled my findings and blamed me for their incompetence.” 

“It was a stressful time for everyone. The stakes were high and mistakes were made,” Harry tried, but it sounded weak even to him. 

“Yes, but those mistakes weren’t made by me, were they, sweetheart?”

Harry gaped. “I did everything I fucking could to catch Jack Agethon, Draco!” Harry exploded and so did the glass in his hand, but neither Harry nor Malfoy paid it any mind. “And you know what? Fuck you for saying that this is my fault. You think I don’t lay awake at night and wonder about all the things I could’ve done sooner? That I should’ve done sooner? I followed up on every lead and turned over every fucking stone of any place he was even whispered to have been in.”

He was on his feet now, pacing in front of Malfoy like a caged cat, something he knew Malfoy hated, but he didn’t care, not now. 

“You want to talk about mistakes? Coming here was one because you’re still the same old self centered prick who can’t do shit for anyone unless the world sees you do it. You don’t care about the people out there being murdered!You don’t care that everyone is living in fear they could be next. No, you only care that the world knows they’d continued to be murdered if it weren’t for you!” 

Harry stood before Malfoy, chest heaving, face hot with anger, and fist clenched at his sides, waiting. 

“Can I speak?” Malfoy asked, that same infuriatingly calm look back on his face.

“Unfortunately,” Harry replied. 

They stared at each other for a long moment before Malfoy said, “Come here,” in that all too familiar tone.

“No.” 

Draco stood and took a step forward, making Harry take an instinctive step back. “Must it always be a fight with you, sweetheart?” 

“Stop calling me that,” Harry snapped. “I’m not your-your-”

“Aren’t you?” Draco asked with a raise of his brow. 

Harry shook his head. He didn’t want to play this game, couldn’t get caught up in this again, not after last time…

“Hmm, that’s a shame,” Draco’s tone belied his words. 

“Draco, you can’t-!”

“I can’t what?” 

“You can’t just expect me to fall to my knees because you tell me to.” 

“Now, when did I say that?” Draco smirked at him and Harry realized he was dangerously close to being caught if he wasn’t already. “All I asked was for you to _come here_ .”

Harry shook his head and turned on his heel. He had to get out of there before it was too late. “I’m leaving. We’ll send an owl with our official offer. Take it or leave it.” 

Harry hadn’t made it more than a few steps before Draco grabbed him by the arm and spun him around. Their bodies were pressed flush together and from this close Harry could feel Draco’s breath ghosting over his lips.

“Now, now, _now,_ Harry, you can’t just leave when things aren’t going your way.” Draco chastised, his smirk turning mean as he added, “Again.” 

Harry shifted, trying to angle his hips away from Draco’s body, but Draco was always able to read him too well. 

“Are you done pretending?” Draco asked. 

“Pretending what?” 

Draco rolled his eyes and unceremoniously shoved his leg between Harry’s thighs, pressing almost painfully into Harry’s erection. “That you don’t want this.” 

Harry glared up at Draco and yanked himself away. “I _don’t_ .” 

Draco stepped back and spread his arms wide as if to indicate Harry was free. “Then go. I’ll wait for your owl.” 

Harry knew he should turn around and leave. He should go back to the Ministry and send an owl with their official offer like he’d said he would. He should go over the details of the case again, maybe he’d find something he had missed the first hundred times he’d read through the files. Maybe he’d finally catch the bastard or bastards as Draco seemed to think – and then he wouldn’t even need to send Draco an owl. He could solve the case on his own and he’d never have to see Draco Malfoy ever again. 

That’s what he’d do. He’d go back and work the case. He’d go interview everyone for the third, or fourth or fifth time. He’d read the files in a different order. He could solve this, he didn’t need Draco…

“You’re tired,” Draco said, quietly knowing. “You’re overworked. You’re not thinking clearly and your performance is suffering.” 

“What’s it to you?” Harry snapped, mostly because Draco was right. 

“Just because you decided I shouldn’t care about you doesn’t mean I don’t,” Draco said tersely and Harry gasped. “And more importantly, this case is too big for you not to be giving it 100%.”

“I know that!” Harry yelled. “Why the fuck do you think I’m here?” 

“You tell me.” 

“I already did! I’ve already told you what we’re prepared to offer!” 

Draco’s gaze was penetrating as he said, “And you couldn’t have owled that?” 

Harry bit his lip so hard he was lucky he didn’t draw blood. Of course, he could have sent an owl. But he had thought it would be better to ask Draco in person, that it would be easier to negotiate that way. Draco would at least _listen_ to what Harry had to say if he was standing right in front of him.

At least that’s what he had told everyone else. 

“I wanted to ask you in person,” he whispered, eyes closed. If only Draco would stop _looking_ at him like that. He should have left when he had the chance. 

“Harry,” he demanded and Harry opened his eyes. Draco still had that knowing look on his face, and Harry felt it cut him down to nothing. “Come here.” 

Harry went. 

“Tell me your words.” 

Harry nodded. “Green for go, yellow for slow, red to stop and check, and polyjuice for full stop.”

Draco took Harry’s chin in his hand and tilted Harry’s face up, searching it for something, but what Harry didn’t know. “There you are,” Draco murmured. “Was that so hard, sweetheart?” 

Harry yanked his chin out Draco’s grip, and Draco grinned, too satisfied with himself for anyone’s good. “You never make it easy do you?”

“Would you like it if I did?” Harry asked. 

“It’d be nice sometimes,” Draco admitted. Suddenly, he spun Harry around so he was bent over the sofa arm, Draco’s lips warm on the shell of his ear. “But this is always fun, too.”

Harry gave a perfunctory struggle that was more to rub his arse against Draco’s groin than any real desire to escape his position. He was pleased to find that Draco was just as hard as he was. 

“I’m not going to tie you up today, Harry, so don’t even try it,” Draco chided, pressing himself further againstHarry. 

“Why not?” It came out a lot whiner than Harry would have liked. 

“Because you haven’t earned it,” Draco replied simply. 

Harry wanted to pout or protest that he didn’t give a fuck about what he’d _earned,_ this was about what he wanted. But Draco wouldn’t care about what Harry claimed he wanted. But what he needed…Draco would take it as a personal affront if Harry accused him of denying Harry something that he needed. 

Before he could say anything about it, Draco spanked him right on the fleshy part of his arse. Even through his clothes, it stung and Harry cried out in surprise. 

“ _That_ you did earn,” Draco said, reaching around to undo Harry’s belt buckle. 

“You’re a fucking bastard, you know that?” 

“Perhaps you’ll get another.” He made quick work of Harry’s button and zipper, before yanking down his trousers, pants and all. 

Then there was nothing, and Harry was left bent over the arm of the sofa, arse up and prick hard and leaking. He began to fear that perhaps Draco had left him like that but then he turned to find Draco staring at his naked arse. 

“Well, are you just going to look?” Harry demanded, embarrassed at the scrutiny. 

“I may,” Draco told him without looking away from Harry’s arse. 

Harry huffed and turned back to the front. “Of course. I suppose this is the only way you can make it last.” He was rewarded with two more hard spanks. 

“You never could be patient, could you?” Draco sighed and then Harry felt the tell-tale coolness of a preparation spell followed by two fingers pressing against his hole. “Always want it now, now, _now_ .” The fingers pressed in without any further warning and Harry groaned. 

Draco moved the fingers in and out of Harry as he continued, sounding very put upon. “Always so demanding. So fucking greedy, aren’t you?” Harry pushed back to meet the fingers. “It’s never enough for you. Harder, Draco. More, Draco. Faster, Draco. Please, Draco.” 

“Please, Draco,” Harry cried, trying to get the fingers deeper, willing them to be bigger. 

“Please, what?” 

“You _know_ what!” Harry gasped as Draco pressed against the spot inside him that made him light up. “Stop being a fucking tease!”

“I don’t believe I do.” Draco pulled his fingers out, but didn’t pull away. Instead he teased at Harry’s rim, sending shivers up Harry’s spine. 

“Fuck me,” Harry panted. “Just fuck me, you arsehole!” 

“If you insist.” That was all the warning Harry got before Draco’s cock was pushing into him. “That shut you up,” he chuckled when he was fully seated. 

“You haven’t even done anything yet,” Harry goaded. 

“Always have to push, don’t you?” Draco hissed before pulling out and slamming back in. 

Harry gripped at the seat cushions as Draco drove into him, brutally precise with his movements and exquisitely deep. Draco knew just how to angle his hips to drive Harry wild, and he didn’t hold back. He fucked Harry like he had something to prove. Harry was sure without whatever spell Draco had cast to keep the sofa in place they’d be halfway through the wall with how hard Draco was fucking him. 

Draco reached under Harry’s shirt and pinched at Harry’s nipple, causing him to cry out.

“See how nice it is for you when you just listen?” Draco asked. “See how good you can feel when you’re a good boy? That’s all you want, isn’t it darling, to be a good little boy?” 

Harry bit his lip to keep from crying out, Draco’s words still having more effect on him than he’d like. He reached back to swat at Draco’s hand on his hip, a weak show of protest, but he ended up clutching it instead when Draco fucked back into him. 

“Of course it is,” Draco continued, voice tight and Harry knew he wouldn’t last much longer. “And you’re being so good for me, Harry, so sweet once you get a cock in you, aren’t you? Just need someone who knows how to fuck you right, don’t you?” 

Harry whined trying to squirm away from what Draco was saying. “I’m _not_ ,” he panted out and Draco chuckled. 

He felt Draco slow to an almost stop and Harry groaned. He was too close to the edge for Draco to tease him now. Draco draped himself over Harry’s back and asked heatedly into his ear, “Not what, Harry?” 

“Sweet,” he mumbled. 

“You’re right, you aren’t sweet, are you?” Draco replied, picking the pace back up, merciless in his thrusts, giving Harry exactly what he wanted. “You know what you are?” 

Harry shook his head, his glasses flying off and his mind too clouded with pleasure to form words anymore. 

“You’re a needy little cockslut.” 

Harry came. 

Time went hazy for a while after that, but he could feel Draco fucking him through his orgasm, milking his dick for every last drop of come before he pulled out and came directly on Harry’s hole. 

Harry’s knees finally gave out and he let his weight fully drop onto the arm of the sofa. Draco pulled him back up and managed to herd him to the sitting side of the sofa. Harry let himself be arranged into Draco’s lap, turning his face to bury it in Draco’s neck, as Draco ran his hands through Harry’s hair. 

When Harry finally came back to his senses and realized where he was, he immediately stiffened in Draco’s arms and Draco sighed. 

“What?” Harry demanded, momentarily distracted from the creeping feeling of _bad decision_ that was making its way out of the post orgasm fog. 

“Nothing,” Draco said but Harry knew it was anything but. 

“You think this was a mistake,” Harry accused. 

Draco pulled back so fast Harry heard his neck crick, but Draco didn’t seem to care, instead he seethed, “No, _you_ think this was a mistake.”

“I haven’t even said anything!” 

“You don’t have to. It’s always the same.” He sounded almost bitter.

Harry blinked, wishing he had his glasses so he could see Draco’s face more clearly. But he could still see Draco roll his eyes before he held out his hand and summoned Harry’s glasses. 

Harry took the glasses without a word and put them on. When he could see clearly again, Draco was already turned away, glaring at something on the far left wall. 

“What do you mean it’s always the same?” 

Draco sighed again, more sad than exasperated this time. “We have sex. You realise it was a mistake because I’m always going to be a Death Eater and what would the _Prophet_ say? You realise it would never work and you leave.” 

“What?” Harry breathed, his stomach dropping. “You think I care what the _Prophet_ has to say?” 

“Don’t you?” 

“Draco,” Harry said urgently. “Draco, look at me, please.” Finally, Draco turned and gave Harry a hard look. “I don’t give a flying Hippogriff shit what the _Prophet_ has to say about me or you or us.” 

“That’s a nice sentiment Harry, but it doesn’t change the fact that you still only see me as a means to end.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You only came here because you needed something.” His voice was quiet and sharp. “You sat back and watched them oust me from the Ministry because of what? You thought I deserved it? No one could believe that the evil Slytherin was actually good at his job, could they? But as soon as they needed a scapegoat I was the first to slaughter! But now that there are actual lives on the line, _now_ you want my help.” 

Harry felt horrified at what he was hearing. “You think I didn’t fight for you to stay?” 

“Why would you?” Draco demanded. “Why did you wait until now to come see me?” 

“You daft bastard!” Harry yelled, just before he surged forward and kissed Draco on the lips. There was little protest from Draco before he settled in and kissed Harry back. “I _like_ you, Draco, you fucking idiot. Of course, I fought for you to keep your job! But I couldn’t tell you that because you’d just tell me to sod off and that you didn’t need my charity because you’re a prideful little shit. I thought you didn’t want to see me anymore!” 

“You _like_ me?” Draco repeated and Harry laughed. 

“That’s what you got out of that? Of course, I like you. I’m sitting in your lap and telling you how stupid you are, aren’t I?” 

“Is that a Gryffindor thing?” 

“Maybe,” Harry replied, wrapping his arms around Draco’s neck. “I suppose it’s a Slytherin thing to not admit that you like me, too.” 

“Who said anything about me liking _you,_ ” Draco sniffed. 

“Sitting in your lap, aren’t I?”

“As a favor.” 

“Shut up, Draco, you like me.” 

Draco grinned. “You can’t prove it, sweetheart.” 

Harry rolled his eyes and kissed him again. 


End file.
